An Art Lesson
by The Konfessionist
Summary: Butch DeLoria and the Lone Wanderer are partnered up for an art assignment- and the Serpent King obviously doesn't take the work seriously. But then, the Lone Wanderer gives him a little something MORE than he could ever have bargained for...


**A/N: HEY ALL!**

**Well, this is just an_ insanely_ random one-shot that I thought of the other day. It doesn't have much meaning to it- just an idea I had that I really wanted to write up xD I don't even know where it came from, honestly...**

**One-shots are my love! I'd write more, as I actually have a document with all these ideas I wanna shell out to you guys, but with how my mind works the MOMENT I finish writing a short story my brain works into overdrive so it turns into a fleshed-out novel =_=" Poor me ;_;...**

**ANY WHO! I hope you enjoy whatever goes on in my mind, bahahaha x3**

**For a timeline's sake, let's say this takes place sometime around the G.O.A.T. exam- before or after, you can decide where :D I know, with the Overseer being an super controlling dickhole, you'd think that he couldn't care LESS about the artistic ability of the newest generation of Vault Dweller's. I just thought it'd be cute, anyways :3!**

**_Summary: Butch DeLoria and the Lone Wanderer are partnered up for an art assignment- which is to draw portraits of each other, and the Serpent King _obviously_ doesn't take the work seriously. But then, the LW gives him a little something more than he bargained for…_**

**Happy reading, happy writing!**

**~Keyz**

**(P.S.: For all you Butch-Man fan girls, look up the song "He's A Rebel" by The Crystals. I think it fits quite well for a LWxButch DeLoria pairing!)**

* * *

><p>Butch DeLoria had his arms folded over his chest, grumping to himself with his feet up on his desk- crossed at the ankle, as they usually were- with the rest of the classroom buzzing like a busy bee-hive around him. Whoever thought that an art lesson was worth his time was an <em>idiot.<em> The boy couldn't draw a stick figure to save his life!

"Alright, does everyone have their supplies out?" Mr. Brotch asked. "Excellent. Get with your partner and begin the assignment."

Butch glanced over to his partner, Deidra, who sat a few desks ahead of him. They were partnered up for the assignment, which was to draw a portrait of your partner. Simple, right? Deidra had long, straight brown hair (_had_ being the keyword here- Wally got a lot of gum in it a few days ago as a prank and she had to chop most of it off), big brown eyes, a mousy nose and thin lips. She pushed her glasses back up her nose, getting up from her chair to walk towards him.

He knew he'd have to draw the line- this art assignment wouldn't make them _friends_ or even buddies._** "Just draw my picture, and get the fuck out of my face,"-**_easier than Susie Mack when she was all liquored up.

"Listen, pipsqueak-" He began, but was cut off by her holding up a firm hand, palm facing him, perpendicular to a stop sign.

"This is _nothing_ but an art assignment. You draw me, I'll draw you, we get back to acting like nothing changes." She answered, sitting down at the desk in front of him. "I know the drill."

This wasn't the first time they had been partnered up for a project… Butch was beginning to think Brotch the Crotch had it out for him.

"Whatever," He replied with his arms folded over his chest as she began drawing, and he smirked. "Just make me look _good_."

"Your face makes that difficult to do," She answered absentmindedly, pencil dancing across the page, eraser coming up once in a while before a finger did to smudge something away. She worked diligently, and he turned to his own drawing.

Of course, he already mentioned that he couldn't draw even a simple _stick figure_ to save his life, and of _course _he wasn't going to take this project seriously!

So with a sinister smile, he sketched a poorly drawn picture of Deidra- with bug eyes, a flat chest and ass with a stick-figure body, ragged hair and giant glasses… He couldn't forget her mousy nose, either, and- just for a hint of DeLoria class- he drew mouse ears on her head and a long winding mouse tail.

Butch didn't care if he got into trouble with Brotch, not even _he_ was taking this assignment seriously!

"You done, pipsqueak?" He asked after some time of finishing his work, putting the drawing down on his desk with the image face down, his smirk deepening.

"Almost-_ can't get this crook in your smile right…_" Her brows furrowed together with slight frustration, and she pushed her sliding glasses back up her nose with a trained finger.

"Then stop trying," He commented, folding his arms behind his head and crossed his feet on his desk again with an amused cock of his head. "You can't draw perfection, kid."

"I suppose not." Deidra answered, finally sighing with irritation and flipped the paper over in her lap so it was faced down and turned to him, fixing her glasses on her nose. "Alright. Time for show and tell."

"Me first," Butch snickered, flipping the page over to reveal his masterpiece.

She gave it an unamused expression and nodded her head.

"You're an average day Michelangelo." He could see a phantom of a smile pass over her lips. "What are you, _five?_"

"Well what _you_ got can't be any worse than what I drew!" Butch retorted, pointing at her picture with challenge and a sharp finger. "C'mon, c'mon. Let the Butch-man see how badly you _slaughtered_ his perfect face!"

She sighed, rolling her eyes and handed him the paper. He snatched it out of her hands, preparing himself to belt out in boisterous laughter when suddenly-

Butch's eyes widened, his jaw dropping slightly. Actually, it pretty much popped off and landed in his lap as his eyeballs rolled across the floor to Brotch's desk!

_W- Whoa…_

It was Butch alright. It was him, sitting back in his chair with his feet up on his desk- crossed at the ankle- with one arm stretched lazily on his stomach. The other was holding his Toothpick with a skilled hand, and an arrogant smirk played his thin lips with an arched eyebrow as he gawked at whoever was viewing him. There was so much detail- the folds in his Vault suit and leather jacket, the shading in his features and the shadows he created, how she seemed to capture him _perfectly_- as if she took a picture. He could hardly_ believe_ that she did all that work in such a short period of time!

"Hey, DeLoria," Deidra snapped her fingers in front of his eyes. "Did you finally think too much and hurt yourself? _Hello?_"

"Wh- What?" His eyes snapped up to her, and he finally snapped his jaw shut and mentally picked up his eyeballs and popped them back into his eye sockets. He pointed to the drawing. "You actually _did_ this, pipsqueak?"

She adjusted her glasses on her nose once again and nodded. "Well, yes, I did. I was sitting here the _entire time with you **watching me**,_ wasn't I?"

Butch shrugged, looking back down at the drawing. He couldn't help but smile a bit.

"This is actually kinda good, not gonna lie… 'Course you didn't get my body just right, your making me look like a _chick!_"

Deidra tried not to snort, but she rolled her eyes again as Mr. Brotch came over.

"Alright, let me see what you two have down so fa-" He stopped, glaring down at Butch's drawing. "…Why did I even _bother_ to ask?"

Butch gave an impish grin as Deidra took her picture from him and handed it to Brotch. His face turned into the _exact_ same expression as Butch's only moments ago- dumbstruck and completely awed.

"Deidra, this- this is excellent!" He smiled a little. "Of course, it's doing Mr. DeLoria a little _too_ much justice."

He growled at the teacher as he handed the picture back to her and walked off to the next group.

"Makin' me look bad in front of the teach," He grumped, folding his arms over his chest.

She laughed quietly, shaking her head and got up.

"Actually, Butch?" She gently placed her picture in his lap, causing him to stare directly down at it as he slowly unfolded his arms from his chest and planted his feet back on the floor. "I'm making you look _good._"

With that, Deidra grabbed her pencil and eraser and walked back to her seat as Amata ran over, spewing girly nonsense in that high-pitched annoying voice of hers. But all Butch did was stare down at the picture, with her words echoing in his head.

"_Actually, Butch? I'm making you look __**good.**__"_


End file.
